Chapter 45: Do you remember the coup?

On the way back, I had plenty to do.

Pulling back the units stationed near the frontlines, notifying various commanders that a ceasefire agreement had been reached.

Arranging for the wartime requisitioned assets to be returned to their original owners.

Handling affairs as the military’s second-in-command (at least nominally; I promoted General Albrecht to Field Marshal, taking real power under his command) and as the Supreme Commander of the Western Front.

“The 37th Division will be relocated to the Marquisate of Nassau, and the 12th Grenadier Regiment to the Viscounty of Manstein. What is the current status of the 19th Division?”

“Not good, sir. After the heavy battle last time, more than 40% of the troops are incapacitated for combat.”

“Since the 22nd Division also suffered severe losses, both units will withdraw to the rear for reorganization. There’s no room to send new recruits right now, so combine the existing personnel as best you can to fill the ranks.”

“What about supplies? We’re running low on gunpowder at the moment.”

“We won’t be fighting for the next two years, so make do for now. If deemed necessary, additional supplies will be sent later. Oh, and redirect some regiments withdrawing from the Empire’s front to the Holy Kingdom side.”

It wasn’t particularly difficult work—just an expanded version of what I handled during peacetime.

However, the volume of tasks was considerable, so I was stuck for days stamping approvals.

The long war had left many units in shambles, and I used this opportunity to conduct a sweeping reorganization.

The paperwork piled up like mountains as a result.

Even though it was just a light overhaul and not a full-scale reconstruction, it felt endless.

Has anyone ever weighed their documents during the approval process?

I actually did.

It was exhausting.

“Process everything as planned. If additional issues arise, report them to the capital.”

“Yes, sir!”

“With that, I’ll be leaving. Keep up the good work.”

After managing the units at the frontlines and enduring those hardships, I finally set out on the road home.

Our party advanced toward the capital with such speed and mobility that we rivaled the legendary Lord Runjo.

On the way, we briefly stopped in the north to reassign reinforcements while pulling out some veteran revolutionary forces.

This was an extra step to ensure sufficient military strength for the moment we stormed into Rahator to carry out our grand operation.

“Sir, shouldn’t we at least follow the proper procedures? I understand your anger, but if we lead with brute force right away, there will be backlash…”

“Backlash? Backlash, my foot. Did the nobles and royals in that neighboring country follow proper procedures when they tried to assault the Imperial Princess? Did the Empire invade because we failed to file the right paperwork?”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“I get your point. But this isn’t the time to be moving carefully while respecting the law. If we don’t push hard and crush them quickly, how do you think the nobles will respond? Do you think they’ll sit back quietly while we hesitate?”

Yes, this is an illegal act.

Neither the kingdom’s existing laws nor the new ones we’ve established in parliament justify arrests or punishments without a trial or lawful warrant.

But do you really think we’ll be able to root out those responsible for the war if we sit around debating legality?

While we’re presenting evidence and arguing in parliament, they’ll all slip away to who-knows-where.

By now, they must have guessed what kind of news we’ll bring back after returning from the Empire.

The only option is to strike first, before they can move.

Those staying on their estates are unavoidable for now; we’ll deal with them later.

The ones lingering in the capital, though? We’ll round them all up and crush them completely.

We can explain and justify our actions after everything is over.

I don’t particularly like saying this, but sometimes, the ends do justify the means.

“If you understand, go check the soldiers’ camp. They’ll be deployed as soon as we arrive, and we can’t afford for their condition to deteriorate.”

“…Yes, sir.”

And so, we pushed forward at the fastest pace humanly possible for several weeks.

Then, while traveling along the main road, we encountered an unexpected messenger.

“Lord Royten! A message from Colonel Kys of the Intelligence Bureau in the capital!”

Useful, but accompanied by news that made my mood plummet.

“You’ve traveled far. You’ve done well. Go rest in the empty tent to the east.”

“Yes, sir! I’ll take my leave now!”

I encouraged the exhausted messenger and then sat down in my tent to open the letter Kys had sent.

The officers under my command stood around my desk, forming an unintentional semicircle.

“What could have happened for him to send someone ahead like this? Whatever it is, couldn’t it wait until we arrive for a proper report?”

“Who knows? We’re about to find out.”

I carefully unfolded the paper inside the envelope.

The moment I scanned the contents, a string of curses burst from my mouth.

“Mother—damn it!”

“What’s the matter, sir?”

“Read it yourselves. You’ll understand immediately.”

They hesitated briefly, then started reading the letter.

It didn’t take long for reactions similar to mine to erupt from them.

“This is insane.”

“So that’s why the war was so easily approved. Filthy bastards.”

“Why didn’t I just desert this army and flee to another country…”

These were men who had witnessed all kinds of horrors on the battlefield, yet this letter had shattered their mental fortitude.

The reason was simple: the contents were utterly infuriating.

“So the ones who were the most pro-Empire were the ones who caused this disaster. That’s why there wasn’t any opposition.”

According to Kys’s letter, the group that had accompanied the Crown Prince to the Empire mostly consisted of young noble scions.

These were individuals close in age to the Crown Prince and familiar with him personally.

They had been sent under the pretense of representing the kingdom on an official diplomatic mission to the Empire.

Naturally, those selected were from families known for their pro-Empire stances.

These were the types who frequently and publicly advocated for friendly cooperation between the two nations.

But, to everyone’s dismay, the group caused a major scandal during their stay.

Not only did they turn the Imperial Palace into a debauched playground, but they also attempted to assault the Imperial Princess herself.

The families of these scions, now branded as traitors who had turned the kingdom’s most important ally into an enemy, were left with no other choice.

After much deliberation, they made their decision.

So, they decided to switch sides.

“These are the same people who loved the Empire so much, and now they’re suddenly calling for its total eradication? Do these bastards even have a shred of conscience?”

“Politics has always been about saying one thing and doing another. But… these guys take it to a whole new level.”

Continuing to advocate for pro-Empire policies was no longer an option.

With the Emperor enraged and poised to devour the kingdom, who would listen to such nonsense now?

Thus, they resolved to pivot completely and embrace outright hostility.

They conveniently forgot their history of praising the Empire’s culture and figures, aligning themselves with the anti-Empire faction instead.

Any attempt to voice even moderate opinions toward the Empire was met with derision and accusations of treachery.

Were they criticized for their lack of integrity? Of course, relentlessly. But they just closed their eyes, plugged their ears, and ignored it all.

Faced with the imminent ruin of their families due to their sons’ actions, they shamelessly clung to survival, abandoning all pretense of honor.

It was utterly absurd and disgustingly hypocritical, but… it was undeniably effective.

Thanks to them, the anti-Empire faction grew significantly stronger in the kingdom’s political circles.

“I get that these scumbags strengthened the pro-war argument, but the opposition didn’t disappear entirely, did it?”

“Even if it’s a small number, there had to be at least 10% advocating for peace. Where did they all go?”

And here was the part of the letter I hadn’t shared with the others yet.

“They were eliminated. To prevent any potential instability.”

“…You mean they were killed?”

“Yes. They wiped them out under the guise of reducing political competitors.”

While the core of the pro-Empire faction had switched to anti-Empire positions, there were still a few who resisted the tide, standing against the prevailing sentiment.

It was clear that our side was at fault, and pushing forward with a war in such a situation would yield nothing but losses.

The peace advocates argued this point passionately.

Frankly, they had the upper hand in terms of logic and justification, making it hard to refute their position.

So, they were all killed.

It seemed King Carl VII, who had already decided on war, collaborated with nobles who saw these individuals as obstacles and dealt with them.

Under the guise of gathering opinions, they hosted a banquet and lured them in.

Then, in the middle of the event, they collapsed the building, burying them alive.

A textbook example of assassination by wine, carriages, and terraces.

“The minor provincial nobles, clueless as ever, simply followed the decisions made in the capital. The remaining passive opposition kept their mouths shut out of fear for their lives. That’s how they forcibly unified opinions.”

“Damn it, this is a complete mess,” muttered a two-star officer, unable to hold back his curse.

It was rude, but I didn’t bother pointing it out.

Everyone felt the same way.

And because the cause of the war was pinned entirely on certain noble families, it was agreed that these families would take the lead in mobilizing troops to fight, while the rest of the nobility would provide financial and material support.

In other words, the conscription was concentrated in specific regions, leading to discrimination based on origin.

“…Hah.”

I let out a long sigh. It was almost impressive at this point.

How do they keep coming up with new ways to piss me off? Is this some unique talent of the nobility?

I thought I’d seen enough of humanity’s ugliness through politics.

Turns out, I was still just a frog in a well, unaware of the vast depths of corruption.

Let’s look at this positively.

Now that I know, I can add these crimes to the list and crush them all at once.

I turned to my aide suddenly.

“By the way, what’s today’s date?”

“It’s November 23rd, sir.”

“With ten days left to the capital…”

We’ll likely arrive around midnight on December 3rd.

“Perfect.”

What an excellent date for a coup.